Let Me Comfort You
by Aronoded
Summary: Slash/ Incest: Random Pairing Generator couple challenge - Elrond/ Elladan : Elrond Peredhil has a secret passion. Elladan comforts his father.


Here it is. My first story on here. A few warnings first, before you go on. This has Incest. You got it. Incest. Don't know what Incest is? I suggest you look it up before you read this. I would hate for you to be surprised. This story is also slash. Male/male. Slash and Incest. You have been warned.   
  
A note: I wrote this for my friend Aidan. As for the pairing, I got the pairing on a pairing generator, and thought it might be a challenge to write it. Thanks for reading if you're still here; and please, R+R. It's always appriciated.   
  
Also, I know this story will cause some flames. And that's alright. Flame away, but please; If you liked it, let me know. ^^  
  
I love you all.  
  
-Aronoded  
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*  
Let Me Comfort You  
*  
Beyond dreams, in the darkest recesses of his mind, there was a longing. The longing to hold what he had made. The longing to feel like-flesh against flesh, and look into the twin gray of eyes so like his own. His hair he longed to touch, and touch it he had, but not in the way that he wanted. That mouth he'd pressed a kiss to, but none so as breathless as he imagined in his mind. These things were forbidden in morale, looked down upon, even as they were scarecly mentioned save in impure thoughts. For the body he caressed in his heart was that of his eldest son.  
  
To his eldest, Elrond had always been closest, whereas Elrohir had been on his mothers hip, holding the same passion for life, and the same need for laughter and light. But Elladan...Elladan knew a love for knowledge the way Elrond did, a passion for blunt reason and truth. He wanted answers to questions, and to spend tranquil hours in the library pouring over the books he, himself, had poured over, brought him happiness.  
  
Long ago he could recall when it'd been different. When he'd traced his finger tips over the cupids bow of the Elladan's pouting mouth as he slept. He was only a child then, and the only longing in Elrond's heart had been to protect him.   
  
When had it changed?  
  
100 Springs old, he could remember it well when they'd been made adult elves in the eyes of their elders. All the roundness of child hood was gone with the paling winter breeze, lost on the arms of Arda to be remembered only in thoughts, and in memories. The Twins were strong, and stood tall the way he stood tall. They were ready for the world, and yet in his heart, he'd hated to let them go. Just as their mother had hated to let them go. But they always came back, and he was always again made glad to see their faces in the halls of the Last Homely House. Glad to hear Elrohir's laughter. Glad to see Elladan in the library, so calm and so serene.  
  
It was after Arwen was born that Elrond knew his love had changed for Elladan. In his heart he'd always assumed it was fondness for their similaritys -- but as Arwen grew, he realized that she, and he, too were alike in ways that none of the others were. Over Arwen he felt fierce protectiveness and pride. She was his Evenstar...and he loved her as strongly as a father could love his children.  
  
But where did this leave Elladan? His thoughts strayed to him often, but they were not of his accomplishments. They were of his eyes...the curve of his cheek, the way the light would shimmer in his hair when the soft rays of the moon would bleed through the library window. He found himself wondering what it would be like to touch him, no, to caress him in ways that were improper in the eyes of all that could see. But over time, he'd put those thoughts away...ashamed and sorrowed to awknoledge that he was feeling these things.  
  
And then came Celebrian's violation...and her departure from Middle-earth. After that...everything changed.  
* * *  
  
Long years came after the Lady of Imladris sailed away to never come back, and while Elronds thoughts strayed to her often, no longer did his heart ache at the mention of her name. In the dark, he knew lonliness, and as time passed the bitterness settled deep within his heart, and he became cold. Every ounce of what he was became a slave to the political woe's of Middle-earth, and the warmth of the Last Homely House, seemed to wither in the eternal autumn glaze.  
  
But he was not the only one changed. In his son's he recognized a fierceness that he'd never seen before, and before they were infinately aged, they'd seen much death -- most by their own hand. On hunts they would go to destroy the creatures that waylaid their mother and long months would pass, sometimes years, before they would return. They wandered at first alone with one another, and in later years with Estel, a dunadain child, and heir to Isildur.  
  
But even as they'd come to know a darkness, they too, at the woe's of their sister, saw their father changed...and they shuddered in the icy breath of his demeanor...and despaired at his loss of warmth. It was then that the Peredhil children held private council, and it was agreed that they would approach their father to tell him of their worries.  
  
Arwen was the first to go, for it was known that above all, she was cherished and loved immesurably by the Lord of their house, and while Elrond was kind to her, it was a cold kindness and it left her with no courage to voice her pain. And then went Elrohir, for he was out spoken, and brash, and he made argument with irritated tones, only suceeding in being cast out of his fathers company by the wrath of his anger.  
  
And so left Elladan. It was late when he made his case, approaching his father as quietly as he'd done always, and when Elrond looked upon his son's fair face, the lonliness seemed ever darker in his soul. For he remembered the ways of his old thoughts, remembered the tarnished beat of love that still pounded in his heart when he saw him. And before Elladan could speak, Elrond walked away from him, and shut him out of his room.  
  
Alone, Elrond knew many woes that he'd long buried with in. And while he readied for slumber he despaired at the shunning of his eldest son. Never had he turned his back on him, Never had he turned him away; and as he lay down upon his bed, in his mind he wondered where he'd gone wrong.  
  
It was Elladan's face he saw first when he closed his eyes, but then it was her he saw, his spouse far and gone from him for how long, only time could tell. Now more than ever he wished for the comfort of her embrace, and the encouragement of her words. Any sweet whisper of her honied voice, or trail of her fingers across his skin..Anything...anything to make the quiet and forbidden longing for Elladan stop.   
  
But this release was not given to him. There was no hint of her scent in the breeze that danced through the balcony archway of his room. No sign of her breath against his jaw. no sweet sound of her ethereal voice in his ears... No it was him he heard, as if in a dream, softy calling for him...calling for him....  
* * *  
  
"Adar...Please do not shut us out...we ache as you ache, and yet more because it seems you too have been lost to us. Why do you shun me?"   
  
Those words woke Elrond with a start, and his eyes opened in the darkness of the room to suvey it in the moon light. But in instinct, they rested first on his intruder, easily having made out every familiar and fair feature of his face.  
  
It was Elladan that stood hopelessly by the bed. His hands, he'd held before him, and then behind him, as though he were unsure what to do with them. It was not often that he tested his father in this manner, and after the conflict with Elrohir, the eldest twin was unsure what to expect.  
  
But anger was something Elrond could not feel upon hearing those vulnerable words, and it was heartbreak that threatened in his voice when he spoke. "To shun you would be to shun the breath of the wind...Forgiveness is something I do not deserve for my actions this night...But I beg of you to let us not speak of toil and heartbreak, I have no strength left for it this eve."  
  
"But if I can not talk to you, then who shall I go to? There is no one else."  
  
"Go to your brother. Do you all not see that this is not the time for this?"  
  
Elrond had been standing then. He'd risen from his bed, had walked to the balcony archway to gaze out at the night, and he was aware that Elladan stood close behind him, though he could hear nothing of him.  
  
"It seems that there is never a time for us anymore."  
  
It had come in a whisper, and though no bitterness was evident, Elrond could feel his own triggered by the words Elladan last spoke. He was angry at himself for the stubborness that sat heavy upon his shoulder. Angry at Elladan for his relentlessness, and he turned to face his son, brows furrowed, his tongue poisoned. "Why do you come to taunt me with phrases of childish jealousy, Elladan...I have come to expect more from you all..."  
  
"And yet you push me away like a child! I come to you because it is what you would have done had it been any one of us. You're cold, and you push us all away. Let me comfort you, Ada."  
  
And so it was then that Elrond was embraced, and his face found refuge in the silken darkness of Elladan's hair. The twins arms were wrapped around him, and though he knew he should pull away, though he knew he needed to pull away, he couldn't bring himself to do it. "You must release me..."  
  
"I will not...Let me comfort you."   
  
His mind called a warning to his heart but as it stood, his heart took no heed, and he was lost to Elladan's lips on his cheek, his breath on his jaw, and his body so close, and so hard, and so silken against his own. Where the first move was, he could never be sure...He only knew that his hands were tangled in Elladan's hair, that his name was leaving his lips in a sigh, and that together they met the wall in a suddenly tangled embrace.  
  
For a moment, he was fearful. Fearful that he'd gone too far, that he'd been hasty and was lost in a desire he was blind with in. But Elladan's hands were in his own hair, his lips were on his jaw, his own name in the thick air between them like a leaf in the breeze, coated with honey from the elfs voice.   
  
He held Elladan trapped between his body and the wall, hands in hair and lips against lips, kissing, and sighing, and loving in ways that were forbidden in even the darkest of shadows. Clasps came undone, velvet and silk fell to the floor, pooling and rippling like dark water in an enchanted or haunted lake. Braids fell to the will of eager fingers, hair loose and combined, a black on black curtain to caress naked flesh as it became heated, and sensitive, and awakened anew by the fire that raged between them.  
  
Wanted this...Elrond had always wanted this, and in his disbelief it was happening. And to his surprise he shy'd away not, but pressed harder, and deeper, wanting more, and more, and more...never seeming to get enough.  
  
They were both breathless, without their own will, because they were dependant on the other for strength and encouragement to move. When Elrond pressed, Elladan did to, and when Elladan sighed, Elrond answered with deepening kisses, and firm caresses. He wanted him to sigh deeper...sigh louder. Wanted him to want more, as he himself wanted more.  
  
And so, together and trembling, they stood then -- back to chest and chest to wall. An arched back, lips locked, tongues dancing, and swirling to supress the cry as Elladan was taken. And in the heat of his body, Elrond found comfort; and in his father's attention, Elladan did too. Time stood still for them, if only for a moment, as they gave themselves over to it completely, all thoughts of reserve gone, and replaced by pleasure, and passion, and lust, and love.  
  
Together they moved as though they existed with one brain between them, each guided by the others movement, each gasping for the others breath. Hands clenched hands, hips urged hips, and the gyrations of their bodys fanned pleasure unlike any before it, for it was forbidden.  
  
It churned inside them like an angry ocean, and the more they moved, the harder they pushed. The deeper they grinded it down, the more it welled up within them like the swell of a towering wave.  
  
In that moment, Elladan was was senseless. In that moment Elrond knew nothing but the pattern of Elladan's panting breaths, and the smell of his smoldering flesh. Elladan was lost in sweet sensations, and in his peek, his words drove Elrond over the edge.  
  
"Aie, Ada!" So simple they'd been, so simple and so small. But to hear them cried out in that voice, to know, without a doubt it was true, it left Elrond delirious. And so the wave of pleasure crested for them both, one right after the other, and they surged forward together, striving to reach the baking shore under the others sun.  
  
And so it was done...and for long moments they stood together, each listening to the ease of the others breath. Fingers caressed skin, traced over features, smoothed over curves, and the silken strands of obsidian hued hair. Elrond planted kisses along Elladan's shoulder, and elladan raised his fathers elegant hands, and caressed his cheeks against his fingers.  
  
For the first time in along time, Elrond felt peace.  
For the first time in a long time, Elladan felt warmth.  
And they both knew what it was to succomb to weakness.  
  
And they both knew shame.  
  
* * *  
  
The coming of the dawn found Elrond in his bed alone, and when he opened his eyes, he could not taste Elladan on his lips. Could not smell his scent lingering in the room. Only the smell of autumn hitched in the breeze, and when Elrond sat up, he still wore what he'd gone to bed in before...  
  
Before the dream.  
  
For a long moment, he sat at the edge of his bed, and he remembered it detail by detail, breath by breah, and sigh by seductive sigh. And as he dressed he woe'd silently in shame that he could even have thought for a moment that his eldest would entertain such vile fantasies. Ah, but it'd been so real...It'd felt so right, and even as he loathed himself for it, he remembered fondly, and entertained that it had been reality in the privacy of his own chamber for as long as the time allotted.  
  
But in the end, duty won out. Family waited beyond in the hall, apologies were owed and as he made his way to take breakfast with them, they stood and came to greet him, for they were glad that he had come. He embraced his daughter as he had long ago, and pressed kisses to her cheeks, tasting her tears of gladness. "My beautiful Evenstar."  
  
And next Elrohir came to him, and he too was embraced, a kiss to the forehead all he needed to know all was well again between them.  
  
And then Elladan stood before him, and he was unchanged. Unmarred. Unlit by the flame of passion. He stood there as only his son, and Elrond, with the power of will, embraced him as one, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.  
  
* * *  
  
Breakfast was long, and the conversation left him weary, and wanting to be alone, and so he stole away to the confines of his library to take what comfort he could from his books, and his scrolls. But the parchment surrounded him ignored as he stood alone beside a window, day dreaming and deep in thought. There he remained until a voice brought him back to his surroundings. "Ada?"  
  
Elladan.  
  
Elrond found it hard to turn and face his son, and the weariness spoke deeply in the drawn lines of his face as he looked down into eyes as gray as his own.  
  
"You look weary, Adar..." The look in Elladan's eyes held only concern, and for a moment, Elrond studied it, before a nod of agreement was given.  
  
"I am weary... But it is nothing to be concerned over, Elladan. It is the world that makes me weary. I think too much of land's and darkness.."  
  
"Then today, don't think of these things. Today..." Elladan whispered, and then paused to circle his fathers waist with his arms. Elrond allowed himself to be lightly embraced, allowed his cheek to be kissed before he closed his eyes and inwardly shivered to the feel of his lips against his ear. "...let me comfort you."  
  
* * *  
  
Beyond dreams, in the darkest recesses of his mind, there was knowing. Knowing what it was like to hold what he had made. Knowing what it was to feel like-flesh against flesh, what it was to look into the twin gray of eyes so like his own. His hair he'd touched, and in the way that he wanted. That mouth he'd pressed kisses to, and they'd been every bit as breathless as he'd imagined them. These things were forbidden in morale, looked down upon, even as they were scarecly mentioned save in impure thoughts.   
  
For the body he caressed in his reality was that of his eldest son. 


End file.
